


Moonlight Changes Everything

by DragonsPhoenix



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Jossverse
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-25
Updated: 2011-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-28 05:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/670674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonsPhoenix/pseuds/DragonsPhoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the start of Becoming, Angelus captures Willow and Xander. Everything changes</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt from one of the prompt tables at [bad_swa](http://bad-swa.livejournal.com/): moonlight 
> 
> Assorted bits of dialog from Becoming, Part 2

The scent of jasmine, night-blooming, was overwhelmed by the tang of blood as she hit the ground. Her eyes turned toward him. “Get up,” he whispered. 

“My Angel?” Dru asked as she raised herself off the ground. 

The black lace of her dress tore under his fingers as he grabbed her shoulder, yanking her to him. He accused her, each word accompanied by a blow that send her head reeling from side-to-side. “You.” Her her head flew left. “Ruined.” He punched her again. “Everything.” He threw her to the ground, and this time she did not look up. “What a pitiful, mewling thing you are. You don't even try to defend yourself.” 

When she heard his boots clicking against stone, stepping oh so far away, she looked up and whispered “Daddy” so quietly that even she didn't hear it. 

As he vanished from her sight, beams of moonlight, as sharp as arrows, filled the room, piercing her skin but leaving no visible wounds. With little cries of pain, Dru scurried into a dark corner, where the light couldn't reach her. Pulling at one of the shafts in her leg, Dru screamed when the hooked barbs tore her skin but continued pulling until the shaft was in her hand. There was no wound although her leg was throbbing where the arrow had been. It quivered in her hand a moment and then flew toward the center of the room, where the light of the moon wasn't obscured by shadows, joining the other moonbeams darting around the room. 

Dru had started to pull at a second arrow when hoofbeats thundered above the garden. While she'd been distracted with the arrow, the moonbeams had formed a huge path down which raced a horse, taller than Dru had ever seen and so white that it glowed against the night sky. Its hooves were silver, and its ears tipped with red crescents. Dru hissed when she saw its rider, Willow who wouldn't stay dead, dressed in the red black leather she'd favored after Angelus had turned her. 

Disturbed by the presence of Angelus' other Childe, Drusilla focused on the arrows and had pulled out two more by the time she looked up to see Willow squatting next to her. “Moonlight changes everything,” said the hateful voice. “Poor little lunatic, you thought you had the power because the moon governs madmen and fools, but there is a more ancient association; the moon rules terror and we both know whom terror belongs to.” Drusilla yanked out an arrow and, before it could fly away, stabbed it into Willow's heart. As the nasty face vanished, the dust flew into Dru's eyes, blinding them. 

When she could see again, Dru was running, hunting with Angelus. Poor Spike had been left behind, trapped in his wheelchair, but that wasn't right. He could stand; it was only a game he was playing, but she wasn't supposed to know that yet so Dru turned her attention to the hunt just in time to see red hair flip to one side as a face, as pale as the moon, looked behind to see how close the hunters were. Willow picked up her pace only to trip over a root, and Xander stopped to help but was too slow. 

Angelus had taken Willow so Dru grabbed Xander, holding him tightly to her as he squirmed, trying to escape. Willow stood still as a statue, only her eyes moving as she tried to see Angelus, who held her from behind, without turning her head. “I had been planning on killing you,” he said in a conversational tone, “after torturing you for a few days of course, but now it occurs to me that I might want to know what Buffy is planning.” 

Xander, still struggling to get away, obviously wasn't following Angelus' train of thought, Willow did though; she was a clever one. “You want us to spy on Buffy for you?” she asked as if she couldn't believe what she'd heard. 

“Are you insane? We'd never narc on Buffy,” Xander shouted. 

“Not as humans, no,” Angelus said, letting yellow bleed into his eyes. Willow started struggling. She really was very clever and deserved a reward for her erudition. 

“Daddy,” Dru said as she tugged Xander closer. “We should save this one for a special treat.” 

Angelus' smile showed his fangs. “You have an idea?” 

“She'll be hungry when she wakes,” Dru said, nodding toward Willow. 

Willow's eyes grew wide for a moment and then she turned into a wild thing, well as wild as a human could get. She tried to kick backward at Angelus, but he just lifted her off the ground, tearing at her neck with his fangs. 

Xander struggled in Dru's arms, shouting for help to the uncaring sky. 

* * * 

They played with Xander while waiting for Willow to awaken: one of his eyes had swelled shut, a few of his bones were broken, and Angelus had pulled out some fingernails. Xander was still defiant though, not giving Angelus an inch. Squinting through the one eye he could open, Xander croaked, through a voice worn out from screaming, “Buffy will kill you.” 

Angelus leaned down until they were eye to eye. “She might try, but you won't be around to see it.” 

Spike, his wheelchair parked near the garden doorway, called out, “Could you just kill the whelp already.” 

“What?” Angelus replied. “Interrupting your beauty sleep?” 

Spike's hands clenched the arms of his chair. “I won't be in this thing forever,” he muttered. 

Angelus' lips twisted into a half-smile, but before he could reply, Drusilla started clapping her hands. “Sleeping Beauty awakens.” As Wilow's eyes scanned past him to settle on Xander, Angelus' smile turned to a grimace. 

Willow walked to Xander with a sinuous shimmy she'd never had in life. “My poor darling,” she said as she squatted next to him and took his hand. Xander winced. “Covered in all these beautiful bruises.” She kissed her way up his arm. “Don't worry,” she said, sitting herself across his outstretched legs. Xander screamed as she jarred one of his broken bones. “Soon you'll never feel pain again. Soon we'll be together forever.” 

As Willow licked the blood off of Xander's split lip, her teeth shifted to fangs, cutting him further. Pushing his head back, she tore into his throat, feeding, draining the life out of him, and only stopping when he was a inch away from death. “Soon now,” she promised, cutting her wrist with a fingernail, but before she bring her arm up to feed him, Willow was grabbed from behind. 

“No need to go there lassie,” Angelus said. “I only need one of you.” 

As Willow bucked against him, clawing like a lioness and kicking at his feet until he stumbled, Angelus wrenched her around until he could get a firmer grip, squeezing tightly and lifting her off the ground, until as a snap sounded from below, Willow froze. “No,” she whispered, looking down to see Drusilla squatting by Xander. His dead eyes stared at nothing. 

“Humans break so easily.” 

Angelus lowered his arms and stepped back, letting Willow drop to the floor. She threw herself at Dru. “You bitch.” Grabbing Dru by the arm and waist, Willow flung her across the room. Spike shifted in his wheelchair but, after a glance at Angelus, sank back into his seat. 

As Dru crashed to the floor, Willow dashed out of the room to a walled edge of the garden where she reached through the ivy and broke off a long piece of wooden trellis. Stake in hand, she turned to find Angelus before her. “Stop or I'll kill you here and now.” Willow dropped the stake.  
Angelus put his hands on Willow's shoulders. “You will go to Buffy and tell her Xander is dead.”  
Willow crossed her arms. “I'm supposed to show up at night, after I've been captured by vampires, and assume that she won't guess I've been turned. Not even Buffy is that stupid.” 

“You're the clever one. Figure out a way to fool her.” 

“She'd be more likely to believe if it looked like I'd been fighting.” She tilted her head slightly and looked up at him through her eyelashes. “You know, if I was roughed up a bit.” 

Angelus laughed as he cupped her breast. “Even Buffy's not dumb enough to believe you fought off a vampire.” 

“I'll figure something out,” Willow whispered as she leaned in for a kiss. 

When Dru gasped, wrapping her arms around herself like a shawl, staring at Angelus and Willow, giving them a small frown that neither of them saw, Spike shouted, out, “Oi. Get a room 'Gelus. Nobody wants to see you rutting.” 

Angelus took his time, kissing Willow before responding. “Afraid to find out how inadequate you are?” He swept Willow into his arms, practically dancing on his feet as he carried her off to his bedroom. Willow rained kisses on his neck, but her eyes remained fixed on Xander's corpse.


	2. Chapter 2

The next evening Angelus led Willow out of the mansion. “You know what to do?”

Willow, ready to roll her eyes after so much unnecessary instruction, kept her face neutral, although she couldn't keep a sting out of her voice. “Yes! Get Buffy's plans.”

As she walked from the mansion, Willow tugged at her clothes as if they itched. “Willow,” Angelus called to her. Pausing, she turned. “Buffy has to believe you're human.”

“I know. She will.”

“You have to remain in character. Remember, she could be anywhere. For all you know, she's watching you now,” he said.

“If she were, then you just told her I'm a vampire,” Willow replied.

Angelus leaped the distance between them, put one hand around Willow's neck, and raised her off the ground. Thinking quickly, Willow cringed just like she had that night that Angelus had captured her in the school hallway. “Good girl,” he said as he dropped her back down.

Aware of Angelus' eyes on her, Willow walked away as if unsure of herself, looking around to check for demons she knew weren't there, keeping up the act until she was almost certain Angelus was no longer watching. She took a long look around until she was sure she was alone and then, dropping her human guise, sneaked back to the mansion, hiding herself in some bushes she'd marked out as good cover.

Angelus looked like he was about ready to throttle Dru as the little lunatic raved on and on about the moon. Willow jumped back, startled, when Dru, pointing a finger at her hiding place, said, “The leaves are as dark as the night sky, the petals as luminous as stars, twinkling in and out next to the eyes of the moon.”

“Dru,” Angelus warned.

“The stars sing and dance, but they've abandoned.” Instead of finishing the sentence, she started crying. Angelus folded his arms. “The clouds,” she said through her tears. “It's all misty,” she added, her hands stretched forward as if she couldn't see and had to feel her way. After another moment she shook her head and asked, “Daddy, why was I crying?”

“Are you ready to hunt yet?”

“Oh yes,” she said, wiping the tears from her face. “May I pick?”

“Where?”

“Lover's Lane, up by the woods. We can dance to their screams, just like the stars do.”

As she finished speaking she looked confused, like she might wander off into a trance again. Angelus agreed quickly. “Come on, lassie. The night won't last forever.”

Willow waited, freezing herself in place, until she was sure they were gone. Just as she was ready to start hunting for Buffy, Spike strolled out of the mansion – on his own two feet. Willow smiled. “He's sneakier than I thought,” she told herself as she chased after. “He could be useful after all.”

Willow had been trailing Spike for five minutes before she realized he was heading to her old neighborhood, toward the house she'd grown up in. As he turned onto her street, Willow raced through the backyards to her old home. While she didn't know why he was going there, his destination seemed certain. Climbing onto the garage of the house next door, Willow looked down to see Buffy staring at the darkened windows. Spike was walking straight toward the Slayer.

“Hello cutie,” Spike said from the sidewalk.

Buffy turned, obviously caught by surprise, tears running down her face. “Awww look, she's been crying, just for me,” Willow said to herself as Buffy flew at Spike, crashing him into a parked car. She'd punched him three times, bam, bam bam before he grabbed her arms and shoved her away.

As Buffy pulled out a stake, he shouted, “Hey, truce here. White flag and all that rot.”

“Let me clear this up for you. We're mortal enemies. We don't get time outs.”

“You want to go a round, pet,” he replied, “I'll have a gay old time of it. You want to stop Angel? You're going to have to play things a bit differently.”

Buffy lowered the stake slightly, asking, “What are you talking about?”

“Good question,” Willow whispered. “What are you up to?”

“I'm talking about your ex, the Jack you let out of the bloody box.”

“This has got to be the lamest trick you guys have ever thought up.”

“Fine,” Spike said, lighting a cigarette. “I'll give you a freebie. Your friends,” she said with a nod toward Willow's house.

“What did you do?”

“Me? Nothing, but lover boy went to town. The boy's dead, but Red's been Turned. He's sending her to spy on you. Shouldn't be hard to verify I'm telling the truth.” He took a few steps back, putting the car between them. “Once you've done that, I'll be back. We'll have a chat.”

As Spike vanished into the night, Willow thought quickly. The sooner Angelus knew what Spike was up to, the quicker Spike would go down, knocking Dru's main support right out from under her feet, but the chance to confront Buffy was too tempting to resist. Slipping off the roof, Willow thought about playing human for a bit, sowing uncertainty in the Slayer's mind, but she didn't have the time, not if she wanted to get to Angelus before Spike returned to the mansion.

As Willow stepped out of the shadows, Buffy raised her stake. “How'd you know?” Willow asked, pretending ignorance.

“Spike told me.”

“I thought he might have. Angelus told him to,” Willow lied. “Not that I'm supposed to know about it,” she added with a shake of her head, “but they really are incredibly obvious, aren't they?”

“Why would he do that?” Buffy asked, each word clear and precise, as if she were keeping her world from falling apart by carefully choosing her words.

“Aww, is Buffy upset that her darling beloved tried to hurt her?” Willow asked in mock sympathy before bluntly adding, “He wanted you to kill your best friend.”

“What about Xander?” Buffy asked.

“Drusilla killed him,” Willow replied. Not only was it the truth, but it made Dru an even bigger target in Buffy's mind.

“Who killed you?”

There were so many ways to respond to that. Willow went for the cruelest. “Angel.”

Buffy's eyes teared up. “I'm so sorry, Willow,” she choked out.

Willow walked around a tree, trailing her hand over the rough bark. “I'm not.” She stopped in front of the tree, where Buffy would have a clear shot, and made herself look vulnerable. “I just wish Xander were here, not the weak human he was,” she added as she shifted into vamp-face, “ but the monster he could have been. He'd have loved hunting you.”

As Buffy threw the stake, Willow rolled to her left, vanishing into the bushes before the stake hit the tree. “Some other time then,” Willow called out before racing off to find Angelus.

* * *

Spike listened outside the mansion, hearing the usual night noises, but nothing to make him think Angelus' home, he'd never think of it as his, was occupied. An owl, swooping down on some unsuspecting rodent, made him smile as he thought of Angelus trapped in the claws of his plan. Marveling at the awfulness of that metaphor, after over a century of unlife that was the best he could come up with?, he walked to the nook where he'd hidden his wheelchair. Angelus was sitting there, sword in hand. As he stood, the chair crashed back.

“Angelus, I can explain.”

“Going to tell me a story?” Angelus asked, sweeping the sword before him. “I've already heard one. It seems you've made a deal to sell me out to the Slayer.”

Without a second thought, Spike raced deeper into the mansion, to the far side of the room, elated he'd made it to the weapon chest until he heard Angelus chuckling behind him. Grabbing a sword he turned to see Dru and Willow blocking the exits. “Missed your chance to escape without a fight, did you?” Angelus asked as he stepped into the center of the room, sword at the ready. “You never were much of a thinker.”

Spike replied with a confident-looking smirk. “Think I can take you. The sword is a gentleman's weapon, giving the advantage to those who are light and quick on their feet. It really shouldn't be the weapon of choice for blockheads who rely on dull, brute strength.”

With a snarl, Angelus slammed his sword down until it flashed like lightening in the firelight, raining down blow after blow until Spike, too worn down by the assault to block the last blow, was cut, a long slash running down from his right shoulder to his left hip. Glancing up, with a sinking stomach, Spike saw that Dru had shifted into vamp-face at the scent of his blood. 

Angelus licked his lips. “Flayed alive, is that how it should be? Certainly it'd be the sort of death a traitor like you deserves.”

Spike, unsuccessfully using his left hand to hold shut the wound, kept his sword at the ready, waiting for Angelus to attack, but instead the vampire surprised him. “Willow,” he called out, gesturing toward Spike with his sword, “would you like a go?”

Spike closed his eyes for one brief moment against the certainty that Angelus would offer the sword to Dru next. He couldn't see Willow behind him by the open doorway that led to the garden, but knew she'd accept. Vampires lived for violence; Fledges moreso than most – the young needed to prove themselves.

Spike didn't hear Willow accept, not that he had to, but he did see Angelus toss her the sword. Seeing his only chance for escape, Spike threw his sword after, striking Willow through the shoulder before she had time to register his attack. The first sword, the one Angelus had tossed, fell from her hands, clattering on the floor, as Spike started charging for the door. He grabbed it in passing, slowing himself down slightly, but the weapon would be worth it.

Outside of the mansion, Spike headed for the trees that stood between the house and the road, knowing it was futile since Angelus could track him by scent if not by sight, but he wasn't about to just roll over and give up. Hearing voices behind, Spike ducked around one of the larger trees, pressing himself tightly against the trunk, listening closely, trying to pretend those weren't Dru's footsteps mixed in among Angelus' and the minion's.

The footsteps stopped, not ten feet from his hiding place. “He's close,” he heard Angelus call out. There was the sound of an elaborately exaggerated sniff. “Spike, you can't hide. I can smell your blood.”

Spike smiled. Angelus' words had told him, as clearly as sight, exactly how far away Angelus was. Stepping around the tree, he threw the sword, but Angelus saw it coming. Stepping to one side, he grabbed the sword midair, catching it in one hand, the sword slicing through his skin as it slid to a halt. With blood gushing down his arm, Angelus said, “Why do you even bother running? It's not like I'll let you escape.”

At the sound of tires, screeching down the road, taking a turn too fast, Spike's head turned, not much but enough to warn Angelus. “No,” he shouted as Spike dashed out into the street and threw himself onto the passing car. Grabbing onto the edges, where the windows would be if they hadn't been rolled down, Spike winced as his cut opened again but held on. He could deal with that if he escaped.

“Oh, bugger me,” Spike called out as the car slowed, definitely about to stop, but then from inside the car he heard a voice shouting out “drive, drive” as if in a panic. Guessing somebody had looked back and spotted the vamps in pursuit, Spike shouted out, “Ta lads. Thanks for the help” as the car sped away.


	3. Chapter 3

“Find him,” Angelus shouted back as he stormed to the mansion, not bothering to stay and make sure the minions did as he'd commanded. Drusilla, humming an old folk song about betrayal, stopped just inside the doorway, staring at Willow, who sat on a couch with the bloody sword Spike had thrown at her by her feet.

Angelus, the second bloody sword in hand, leveled it, pointing it straight at Willow's throat. “You let him get away.”

Dru's eyes lit up at the threat of violence.

“Sire,” Willow whispered.

Angelus pushed the sword into her neck, breaking skin. “He'll go to Buffy, and tell her where we are.”

Willow's smile was certain. “She'll kill him.” Angelus pulled the sword back an inch. “Buffy thinks Spike lied earlier, under your orders.”

“And why would she think that?” he asked.

“Buffy kills her best friend,” Willow replied. “I told her that's what you want.”

“She thinks I was using Spike to betray you?” Angelus lowered the sword. “Clever.”

Willow wiped a finger across her throat and looked at the blood a moment before, with a sensuous shift of her hips, holding it up to Angelus' lips. His gaze never left her eyes as he licked the blood off her finger. “Come then,” he said huskily as he pulled her toward the bedroom.

Willow didn't smile until she heard Dru, realizing she'd been left alone, gasp in dismay.

* * *

Peering out from behind the veil of shadows, Dru checked carefully to see if the moon was gone. You never could tell. Moonlight could be very tricky, leading you down twisting paths where even innocuous things like tiger lilies would bite and tear at your skin.

She stepped into the center of the room, still not sure it was safe, but the moon was gone, only she and the stars remained. She clapped her hands. “I know this next part. May I tell? Please?”

She waited until the stars had chimed one huge, harmonious chord of assent before continuing the tale. “I was standing just here, but the floor was pitching about like a boat in a storm and them, boom, down I fell. I picked up the wood which that nasty Willow had broken off the trellis, certain I'd need it, although I didn't know why. Then a moonbeam hit me, and suddenly I was standing in a crypt. Spike was there, and I was holding the wood to his chest.”

Spike glanced down at the stake, which was pointed straight at his heart, and then caught Dru's avid gaze. He looked as determined as she'd ever seen him. “Go ahead then. If you hate me that much, just get it over with. Kill me.”

Dropping her hand to her side, but keeping firm hold of the wood, Dru leaned in to kiss him. “I could never hate you, my love.”

Spike brushed a hand over her hair. “Come with me then. Let's leave this place, just the two of us.”

“What about Daddy?”

“What about him? We've been without him for the better part of a century. Not like we've needed him. We can get by just fine without 'Gelus. It'll be just the two of us – the way it was meant to be.”

Knuckles whitening around the wood, Dru slammed the stake through his heart so quickly that Spike's eyes didn't even have a chance to widen before he was dust. “It was meant to be you, me, Daddy, and Grandmama, but now you've gone and spoiled it.”

Holding her hands up, Dru stared at them with an intense gaze. They were covered in dust. “Oh no, I've gotten myself dirty. Daddy will be terribly disappointed.” As she wiped her hands against each other, dust fell to the floor, billowing up at her feet like tiny clouds. “Get off,” Dru shrieked, rubbing her hand together, oblivious to the dust at her feet in her desperation get her hands clean. As she wiped her hands harder and faster, dropping more dust, the clouds grew, expanding upwards and outwards, until she couldn't see anything.

Dru reached out her hands, searching for something solid. “Spike,” she called out. “I've lost you Spike, and I need you to lead me home.”

“Why should I help you? Killed me, didn't you?” That couldn't be Spike, no matter how much it sounded like him. Spike would never deny her.

“Please Spike,” she screamed.

She heard a sigh, and then the voice said, “This way then. Come on.” The voice led her along, telling her to hurry before day began. She rushed as quickly as she could, trying not to get distracted by the bullfrogs croaking out a warning as they raced past, but still the sun was about to rise by the time she'd found the mansion. She'd lost the voice somewhere along the way, but that was all right because the clouds had vanished and she could see again.

“Bored now. What do we do all day?” Dru heard as she stepped in through the side door. Willow, sprawled out on a chair, her feet resting on the leather couch, wore nothing but Angelus' coat.

“We wait,” Dru replied, not happy with Daddy's newest Childe.

“Dru,” Angelus said, turning to her with a pleased smile. “You're late. Sun is almost up.” He sounded as if he were chiding her, and she tried not to be resentful. It was just his way caring for her.

“I still think we should move,” Willow said. “Her Childe,” she added dismissively, “knows where we are.”

“Spike isn't a threat,” Angelus said.

Dru trailed her hand over the wallpaper, feeling the bumpy patterns. “Naughty boys shan't have their supper.”

“Huh?” she heard from Willow's seat, but Daddy understood.

“What did you do?”

“Poof. One quick thrust and it's all dust to dust.” Dru replied.

“You killed him?” Angelus said in surprise. He wrapped his arms around her, trailing kisses over her hair. “We should celebrate.”

Willow stood, walking closer and closer until she'd disrupted their moment. “We should kill the Slayer.”

“And just how might we do that?” Angelus asked. His words were a gauntlet thrown down before her.

“Workmen dug up an artifact, outside of town. Something ancient. Something demonic. Giles has been translating the runes, and he's worried.”

Angelus let Dru go. “Did you look at the text? Could you write it out?”

“Yes,” Willow said with a sly smile.

“Dru, get me some paper,” he said, his gaze never leaving Willow.

When Dru brought the paper out, Willow all but snatched it from her hand and had printed out two rows of runes before Angelus stopped her. “Wait. These symbols here,” he said pointing to the paper. “Are you sure?”

“Of course,” Willow replied. “What does it say?”

“Acathala, Destroyer of Worlds.”

* * *

Angelus had Acathala, the demon that had been frozen to stone centuries ago, brought to the mansion, clearing away the furniture to make room for his ritual. The demon stood at the far end of the room, past the fireplace, while Willow and Dru waited inside the room, just past the hallway that led from the front door. The walls seemed to mirror the coldness emanating from Acathala so that the entire room felt like a freezer. Angelus had stepped into the shadows, primarily for dramatic effect as far as Willow could tell, until the minions brought the victim forward, hands bound behind his back, and dumped on the floor, about halfway between Willow and Dru but a few feet before them.

Angelus stepped toward his victim, chanting with each step, “I will drink. The blood will wash over me.” The boy glanced around, a few quick moves of his head that scanned the entire room, and then made a dash for the side door.

“Grab him!” Angelus' words echoed through the room, but Willow, who'd been wondering why there was nothing to keep the boy from running, was already on him. This plan was her idea, even if Angelus had taken it over, and she'd look weak if it failed. A kick sent the boy sprawling face first to the ground. Picking him up by the hair, she dragged him across the room and dumped him before Angelus.

“As I drink, the blood will wash in me,” Angelus started intoning. The boy stood, more slowly than before, and stepped to the center of the room in a fighting stance, ready to kick anyone that came near. “Nobody thought to secure this guy? Seriously?” Angelus shouted, stalking across the room. As the boy kicked at him, Angelous grabbed the foot and yanked it upwards, sending the boy sprawling to the ground. Blood pooled around his head. With a growl, Angelus bent over, sinking his teeth into the boy's neck, messily, tearing skin, allowing rivulets of blood to flow to the floor. Reaching down, Angelus placed one hand on the bloody neck. Without speaking, he stormed to the demon and grabbed the sword hilt jutting out from its chest. While light twirled around the sword, Angelus fought to hold onto the hilt but, with a blinding flash, was thrown to the ground.

“Ooooh, this is very disappointing,” Dru wailed.

“Shut up, Dru,” Angelus shouted, throwing a vase at the wall. As its smashed, shards raining down onto the floor, he yelled, “I don't have time for your nonsense.”

He paced the room. “What went wrong? I had the blood, the sword.”

“I know someone we can ask,” Willow offered. Angelus stopped and stared. “Giles,” she added with a smirking glance toward Dru, who hadn't helped at all. “He's been a busy bee, researching Acathala. I'll bet he knows.”

* * *

“We have to act fast.”

“Typical Fledge,” Angelus said dismissively. “Always rushing in. You need to learn to take your time, get into the torture, stop and smell the roses. You're problem Willow is that you aren't willing to look for the elegant solution, something with grace and style.”

“There's elegant and then there's effective,” Willow replied. “You know how resourceful Buffy is. Do you want to restore Acathala or play with the Slayer?”

“She's not going anywhere.”

“She'll be here, faster than you can blink, now that you've got Acathala. You know how many apocalypses she's stopped. Hell, she even took out the Master after she'd been killed.”

Angelus bolted out of his seat. As he paced, Dru could see that Willow's words were changing his mind, and she felt sorry for him because she knew he so wanted to torture the Slayer.

“You're sure Giles will be going home this evening?” Angelus asked.

“After three days of research? It's a certainty. They'll be some tome he needs, or he'll want a break from Scooby bickering and make an excuse, or he'll want some special weapon for Buffy.”

“Pick him up.”

* * *

“Buffy,” Giles shouted before Willow slapped a hand over his mouth.

“Now, now,” Willow said, dragging him down the steps, away from his apartment and to the car, idling in wait with a minion at the wheel. “No need to break the Slayer's concentration. Can't you see she's busy?”

Buffy was busy. Out of the dozen minions Willow had brought with her, eight were left. The rest would be dead soon, but not quickly enough to save Giles.

Willow had been clever. Dru, watching from the shadows, had to give her that. The Slayer didn't need to die, she just had to be distracted long enough for Giles to be stowed away. As Willow shoved Giles into the trunk, Dru stepped into the fray, sword in hand, an ancient broadsword that looked too heavy for her delicate frame. Flickering the sword about as if it weighed no more than a feather, she'd beheaded two minions before Buffy realized she had help. It wouldn't be enough to allow Buffy to rescue Giles, which wasn't Dru's purpose, since the car was already pulling away, but it would allow Willow, who hadn't gotten into the car, to listen.

Dru carefully didn't look toward Willow's hiding place. It would defeat her purpose if Willow knew she was supposed to overhear. As Buffy killed the last minion, pulling the stake out before the vampire dusted, Dru held out the sword between them, in a defensive position, but didn't attack.

When Buffy glanced down the street, in the direction the car had vanished, Dru said, “You'll never find it now. If you want to save your Watcher, you'll have to work with me.”

“If you think I'm going to trust you, then you're more off your rocker than I know you are.”

“He'll be dead before you can find him,” Dru said.

“Why would you help me? No, this is another trick.” Buffy leaned toward the street, as if that would help her find Giles.

“Tit for tat. Scratching backs. You're the only one who can do it,” Dru replied.

“Do what?” Buffy asked.

“Kill Willow. I've seen it again and again. You're the one who kills her – whether she goes as dark as the void between the stars, or is injured in Twilight's battlefield with death a mercy, or lives for thousands of years, ruling queen of a great empire vaster than the sky – you are always the one.”

“And let me guess, you want her dead.”

“She let loose the dogs of war, trying to close the cage in tight around me, turning Daddy against me. I'm merely responding in kind, but I can't kill her myself. It has to be you,” Dru said.

“Let loose the dogs of war?” Buffy asked. “Wait, are you saying she started it? What are you, six?”

“Do my motivations matter that much to you? You need me as much as I need you. The Watcher is already in Daddy's hands. Soon the screaming will start.”

“Fine, I'm in, but you're going to tell me where first,” Buffy replied.

“There's a mansion on Crawford Street, a home abandoned for decades after a pair of Gnorash demons ritually murdered the family, although why that would bother anyone on the Hellmouth I don't know.” Dru smiled as she heard Willow's footsteps racing down the street, heading after the car. Everything was going exactly as she'd planned.

“And that hell-sucky demon is there too?” Buffy asked.

Dru frowned. This wasn't supposed to have anything to do with Acathala. “I don't see,” she started to say.

“Just tell me,” Buffy ordered.

“Yes,” Dru said, too confused by the turn of events to think of lying.

“I'll meet you there,” Buffy shouted, dashing toward the stairs.

“But Daddy's already torturing him,” Dru called out. “Once he finds out how to awaken Acathala, he'll kill your Watcher.”

“That's why I have to destroy the demon.”

“But it's not alive, not really. You can't kill a stone,” Dru said.

“Stone shatters.”

As Buffy sprinted up the stairs and kicked in a door, Dru wondered what she had meant. “Oh, Daddy's not going to like this, not at all.” She ran off toward the mansion.


	4. Chapter 4

When the phone rang, Oz and Kendra, sitting on opposite sides of the library table, stared at each other for a long moment. “I'll go,” Oz said on the third ring, already having realized Kendra had some odd constraints. There were things she didn't like to do and apparently answering someone else's phone, even if it was as public a phone as the library's, was among them.

“Hey,” he said into the mouthpiece, shouting after a moment, “Whoa, slow down! What about Giles?” He hung his head for a moment before adding, “What do you need?” After another pause he said, “Got it, but she'll never find the mansion on her own, and my van is right outside.”

* * *

From the front door, Willow followed the screams, ignoring the main hallway and heading right, to the small, unfurnished room where Angelus had stowed Giles. 

“Took you long enough,” Angelus said. “You've missed one of my favorite parts. The first couple of cuts,” he added, holding up a short hunting knife, ”really do tell you how someone will handle torture. Rupert here is the stoic type. It'll probably take days to break him.” Smiling at Giles, he added, “I'm looking forward to it.”

“We've got trouble,” Willow told him. “Drusilla told Buffy where we are.”

“Did she?” Willow stepped back at the unexpected joy in his voice. “Such a thoughtful Childe Dru is. Knowing I want to kill Buffy, Dru delivers her right to my doorstep.” Tilting his head, Angelus looked Giles over. “You know, I've never counted how many cuts it takes to kill a human. Let's see how far we can get before Buffy shows up, shall we? One,” he said, slicing through Giles' arm. As the blood soaked into the shirt, Angelus said, “This is why you get them naked first. It's so much more fun to watch blood running down bare skin.”

“Shouldn't we prepare, for Buffy I mean?” Willow asked.

Angelus shrugged. “There's nothing to do that hasn't been done. Might as well have some fun while we're waiting. Two,” he said, slicing across Giles' chest. “Ah, there's my boy,” he added over Giles' screams. 

He'd worked his way up to the seventeenth cut when Dru came rushing in. “It's all gone wrong. The Slayer is on her way. She ruins everything.”

Giles grinned, a dark uptwisting of the lips, promising pain and death.

“Dru, honey,” Angelus said. “It'll be a party, a little mayhem, a little death. Hell, seeing his Slayer's dead body might be what Rupert needs to send him over the edge enough to tell us how to awaken Acathala.”

“No, no,” Dru wailed.

“What have you Seen?” Angelus asked, suddenly serious.

“It doesn't go the way I planned,” Dru said.

“Plans never do,” Willow informed her.

“What goes wrong?” Angelus asked.

“The firmament falls away. So many of the puppets die, but for the rest it's worse. They stand alone.”

“Dru, that's hardly helpful,” Angelus said in a singsong chant.

As Dru backed against the wall, her eyes staring at nothing visible, Willow said, “I don't see why you keep her. It's not like the visions are useful.”

Still staring off into space, Dru said, “She's the only one who can do it. The Chosen strikes at the root of the tree, sending it toppling down. Only the vixen who lies in wait, ready to attack, has a chance to survive.”

Willow, who had frozen at Dru's words, bolted out the door.

“Dru,” Angelus said. “What'd you do?”

Smiling at him, she replied, “Planted a few seeds.”

Angelus glanced between Giles and the door, his eyes tracing Willow's path. Finally, pocketing the knife, he said, “Let's go watch the show.”

* * *

When the van turned the corner, Buffy stepped out of the bushes, making sure Oz and Kendra would see her. “Thought it was up the street,” Oz said.

“I don't want them to see us coming. Where is it?” 

“In the back,” Oz replied, nodding toward the rear of the van, “but I'm coming with.”

“No,” Buffy said, shaking her head. “It's too dangerous.”

“Angelus, Drusilla. Spike. Willow.” His voice choked on the last name. “Enough vamps to keep both of you busy. You'll need someone to get Giles out.”

“If he's still alive,” Kendra added.

“I think he is,” Buffy said. “They took him for a reason. They won't kill him quickly.” Climbing into the back of the van, Buffy added, “Third driveway on the left. Get us as close to the house as you can.”

Kendra leaped out of the van before it had rolled to a stop. Buffy, burdened with her weapon, followed closely with Oz trailing in the rear. As Kendra kicked in the door, sending it flying open, Buffy started up the rocket launcher, it's high-pitched whine reminding her of battles won. “No heroics,” she shouted to Oz as she stepped into the mansion. “Get Giles out and get gone.”

Oz, sniffing the air, headed right, working his way down a side hallway as Kendra and Buffy walked straight ahead, making their way to a large room lit both by torches and the flames blazing in the fireplace. “Torches?” Buffy called out to Angelus. “What is it with vamps and the whole Goth-chick look?”

Angelus, his eyes lighting on the rocket launcher, shouted “No” as Buffy's hand pulled back, releasing a rocket. The three vampires ducked for cover as Acathala shattered into tiny bits.

“No getting sucked into hell today,” Buffy added.

“The Slayer is mine,” Willow shouted, racing toward Buffy.

“I guess you'll have to settle for me,” Kendra told Angelus, leveling her sword straight at his throat.

Angelus, with a quick quarter-turn, rolled across the floor, grabbed the fire poker in passing, leaped back to his feet, and turned to Kendra with the poker raised high in an attack position. Shifting into vamp-face, he said, “I can live with that.”

As Buffy and Willow paired off, Buffy pulled out a stake. “I'm sorry, Willow.”

“Don't be,” Willow replied, shifting into a fighting stance. “I'm not. I was always the little sidekick: boring, dull, dependable. Now I'm a power in my own right, and I'm about to bag my first Slayer.”

“If you're all superpowery, how did Xander die?”

As Willow kicked at her, Buffy, with “seems like I touched a nerve” on her lips, stepped to the right, just enough to miss being kicked, turning as she moved, positioning herself to jam an elbow into Willow's torso. As she was slamming the stake toward Willow's chest, Buffy jerked her head to the right as she caught a glimpse of Giles, covered in blood and leaning heavily on Oz as they made their way to the door. Willow, taking advantage of Buffy's distraction, swept her arms down, blocking the strike with such force that the stake fell to the floor. A headbutt to the ear sent Buffy sprawling downward. 

“This is too easy,” Willow sneered. “To think I used to be impressed.”

Buffy leaped to her feet into a fighting stance, ready to defend herself, only to see Dru knocking Willow to the floor, raining blow after blow with a flaming torch, keeping Willow down as her hair caught fire. Over the explosion of dust, Buffy called out, “I thought you said only I could kill her.”

“Don't be silly,” Dru replied. “I knew she'd be listening so I made that up.”

Both heads turned at a scream from the other side of the room. Kendra, blood running down from her temple, was trying to get up off the floor while Angelus stood over her, poker raised high. “Leave it to a Slayer to die hard,” he said, slamming the poker down.

“No, you will not hurt Daddy.” As Dru lunged forward, Buffy stepped out of the way, grabbed Dru's arm and, with a hand at the small of her back, shoved her at Angelus. The two of them went down in a tangle of arms and legs.

“Gotta go,” Buffy said, racing across the room to help Kendra up.

Staggering, held up by Buffy, Kendra wiped enough blood from her face so she could see. “What about Mr. Giles?”

“Oz got him out. With any luck, they're well out of here.”

“Or they could have waited,” Kendra said as they stepped out the front door.

“Not that I'm complaining,” Buffy called out as she glanced back to see Angelus and Dru start after them, “but why didn't you get Giles to a hospital?”

“He said to wait,” Oz replied.

“OK,” Buffy said as she shut the car door behind them. “We're in. Go, go, go.”

“Already gone,” Oz replied.

Angelus and Dru reached the doorway just as the car roared out of sight. “This is all your fault,” he shouted, smashing his fist into her face. She took a few steps back but didn't fall. “Acathala is a pile of rubble.” He hit her again, punching her in the stomach until she doubled over. “Willow is dead.” Grabbing her hair he yanked her until she was standing, held up by his hand. “Buffy escaped.” His fist hit her face. She fell. The scent of jasmine, night-blooming, was overwhelmed by the tang of blood as she hit the ground. Her eyes turned toward him. “Get up,” he whispered.

“My Angel?” Dru asked as she raised herself off the ground.

The black lace of her dress tore under his fingers as he grabbed her shoulder, yanking her to him. He accused her, each word accompanied by a blow that send her head reeling from side-to-side. “You.” Her her head flew left. “Ruined.” He punched her again. “Everything.” He threw her to the ground, and this time she did not look up. “What a pitiful, mewling thing you are. You don't even try to defend yourself.”

When she heard his boots clicking against stone, stepping oh so far away, she looked up and whispered “Daddy” so quietly that even she didn't hear it.


End file.
